


When the Punks Burned Down the Shopping Mall

by Darthtanttrum



Series: First Disorder [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Punk, Anarchy, And phasma likes guns and poor life choices, Arson, Bombs, Drug Use, Kylo likes knives, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Specifiaclly 90s punk anarchist au, Violence, Wherein hux makes bombs, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthtanttrum/pseuds/Darthtanttrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phasma likes guns. Kylo likes knives. Hux likes explosives. All three like making poor life choices. They're young and angry and want to watch the world burn, even if it means burning down with it.<br/>First installment of the First Disorder Series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dumpster Diving

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to get a lot darker as it goes on, but this first story is fairly lighthearted for these three. Warning for drug use in this chapter.
> 
> Thanks to @h-hux on tumblr for reading before posting! If you'd like to follow me on tumblr, my url there is also darthtanttrum!

"Phasma's in the dumpster round back."

"She's what?!"

Kylo just shrugged as he put his cigarette back between his lips, and took a long drag. The smoke hung in a cloud around his face when he exhaled. He didn't need to see through it to know Hux was glowering. The music from the bar they stood in front of shook the dirty glass window Kylo leaned on. The bass and drums echoed in the two young men's ribcages, making their pulses rise to thrum in their inner ears. Hux pulled the pack of Marbs from the breast pocket of Kylo's flannel. The faded red and black cloth was missing most of its buttons, so it stayed open to reveal the tattered smiley face t-shirt beneath.

"I thought you were quitting," Kylo shouted over the noise. Hux glared. He produced a lighter from the back pocket of his black jeans and lit the end of the rolled paper, making a show of how deeply he breathed it in before letting the smoke out through his nostrils. With his bright red hair, he looked like he could be on fire.

 "If I have to deal with Phasma this early in the night, I deserve at least one," Hux said. Kylo only caught every other word over the grinding opening notes of the lead guitar. "Is she on something?"

"Molly," Kylo said and put his cigarette out on the back of his hand. He flinched and smiled down at the new burn mark next to the others. Hux rolled his eyes and sighed smoke through his teeth. He tossed his head down the alley alongside the square building, indicating for Kylo to lead the way. The dark haired man obliged, hands burying themselves into his  pockets.

In the back, the street lamp light was shadowed by the heights of the surrounding buildings. One fluorescent bulb flickered over the back door to the bar, glass and filament shaking to the vibrations of the music. A spray-painted green dumpster sat surrounded by a twisted, mostly fallen chain link fence. The top was thrown open, and Hux could just make out in the dim lighting the platinum blonde top of Phasma's head. It was quieter in the alley, and as the men approached they could hear Phasma humming to herself tunelessly.

"Oy, Captain," Hux called out, standing just outside the pile of chain link fence. "The fuck you doing in there?"

The blonde head popped up, Phasma staring out curiously at Hux with pupils the size of discs. Her hair was pulled into two tight knots on the top of her head, save for her fringe that met her dark eyebrows. She wore a sparkling chrome and black top that exposed her midriff and cut-off shorts whose pockets poked out past the uneven hem, torn black tights beneath. Grime smeared on her stomach and part of her face, as well as along her arms, as if she'd been having a good frolick in the filth. She was a fucking mess.

"Good evening, sir," she said, beaming. Her bright pink lipstick made her look like some horrific Barbie doll that a child had abused since the day it was taken home from the toy store. "Care to join me where society has collectively decided we all belong?"

Kylo let out a laugh that made his shoulders shake at the look on Hux's face. He looked like he was going to barf at just the thought. He smoked to stop himself from yelling at Kylo. He didn't want to startle Phasma. Last time she was hopped up like this she'd gone running at the sound of Kylo getting into a shouting match with some skinhead. Hux had to deal with Kylo almost getting his finger cut off in the ensuing knife fight before tracking her down to some motel room where she was coming down in a fit of paranoia. He was not going to repeat ting to talk her down while she waved her gun around.

"What are you doing in there?" He repeated. Phasma blinked and looked down at the pile of trash she stood in.

"That fucking? Finn kid we used to hang with was pissed when I flirted with his girl," she said, still smiling. "He and a big ass hippie tossed me in here." Again, Kylo shook with laughter. Hux flicked his cigarette in his direction. It singed the shoulder of his flannel, but he didn't seem to care as he crushed it under his ratty Doc Martins.

 "Okay, let's get you home," Hux said loudly as Phasma turned to go back down into the depths of the dumpster. She stopped, pouting.

"But Hu-ux," she whined, "you and Ren just got here! The Fetts haven't even started playing yet."

"Yeah," Kylo started to chime in but was quickly silenced by Hux's icy look. He came over next to Hux and they both offered up their hands to help Phasma down. She was taller than both of them by several inches with her platform boots and tettred dangerously once on the ground. Both Hux and Kylo instinctively put a hand on her back to steady her, fingers brushing over each other in a not altogether unpleasant way. They started down the alley slowly in the direction Hux had just come from to join up with the other two.

"My place is closest," he said, glad that Kylo was supporting most of Phasma's off-balance weight. His thin, tattooed arms were nothing compared to Kylo's bulk. Sometimes Hux wondered how a kid who'd been on the streets for the last six years managed to get so damn strong. Genetics, probably. "You can stay there tonight, okay Phasma?"

"Fuck, I'm thirsty," said Phasma in way of response before launching into an unsolicited rant about the man who had pushed her into the garbage.

Kylo and Hux walked without paying attention to whatever the hell Phasma was talking about. She wasn't much of a conversationalist, at least when sober, and they both knew she would be embarrassed if she remembered this tomorrow. They kept their focus on making Phasma moving forward in the correct direction, hands still overlapping on her back. After fifteen minutes, they rounded the corner of the street of Hux's studio apartment. She was still rambling.

"I hate liberals like him, gotta make everything into a reason why they're better than you. Wouldn't shut up about how he's straight edge now, but he doesn't judge other people. That's why I still like you, Hux. You're straight edge, but you're still an asshole about it."

"Do you know this guy she's talking about?" Kylo asked as Hux unlocked the stairs up to his room. He didn't bother to keep his voice down, or to hide that shit-eating grin. Hux rolled his eyes and pulled open the heavy door.

"Fuck if I know."

It took some time to get Phasma safely up the ten flights of stairs. Hux's building was ancient, and the elevator hadn't worked in years. By the time they reached this door, Hux was out of breath and patience. He undid the deadbolt and shoved Phasma inside the one-room apartment. It was incredibly tidy and sparse, with only the bare essentials of a bed, a kitchenette complete with an island countertop that doubled as a table, a bookshelf next to a love seat, and a roll top desk that was currently closed.

Phasma went directly to the kitchen sink and began guzzling water directly from the tap. Kylo ran the hand that had been on Phasma's back through his hair to avoid looking at Hux when their fingers lingered over each others for a second too long too be an accident.

"You gonna be able to handle her yourself?" Kylo asked, still not looking at Hux directly. The redhead scoffed.

"I've babysat the both of you in worse states," Hux said, crossing his arms over his white shirt. His lean muscles flexed with the motion, the solid black lines of his armband tattoo taut.

"Shut up," Kylo said, but he smirked at Hux because it was probably true. On nights when he couldn't fend for himself, Kylo seldom remembered them.

Hux sneered back, but after a moment his expression seemed to soften slightly before it was his turn to look away. "Ah, are you going to be all right tonight?" Most Saturdays Kylo would crash at Phasma's as his one garuanteed bed for the week.

Kylo squared his shoulders and gave a laugh that made Hux's skin crawl. "I'll be fine," he said. He pulled out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket with black nails. "I'll come by in the morning with coffee. She's gonna need it." He stuck one in his lips and slipped out the door without another word or glance at Hux, leaving him feeling angry without knowing why.

Phasma was still slurping at the sink when Hux finally shut and locked the door. "Stop that, you'll make yourself sick!" He stomped forward and turned off the tap, and added, "And you two wonder why I stopped taking shit."

Phasma removed her face from the faucet, her chin dripping with water and lipstick and grime. "See," she hiccuped. "Still an asshole. Love it."

 

 


	2. You Fucked the Police?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phasma and Kylo have a run-in with a couple of cops, one of whom Kylo was once well acquainted with, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to @h-hux on tumblr for reading this before posting. If you want to follow me on tumblr to talk about the story, get updates on further chapters, and see photo edits to accompany the First Disorder Verse you can find me @darthtanttrum there!
> 
> Mentions of drugs, some blood, and reference to underage sex in this chapter.

Phasma followed the familiar sound of a can of spray paint down past the rancid smell of the taco joint's overflowing trashcans. She'd done her fair share of rummaging through restaurant dumpsters, but she couldn't believe this was Kylo's favorite place to get a free meal. Everything smelt like it'd gone bad a week before it was tossed. Nose wrinkled, her boots quickened down and around the corner where the alley met the tall wall of some crumbling subsidized apartment building. A tall, familiarly broad-shouldered figure stood there in front of a freshly made splash of graffiti.

Kylo Ren froze at the sound of her platform boots, tense, and turned to look at Phasma through the eye holes of his battered gasmask. She and Hux had both unsuccessfully inquired over the last year where he got the thing. He never gave up the story. She figured it was probably his most prized possession, considering it took up so much space in his single back pack.

Phasma put her hands up. "Relax," she said. "It's just me." Her eyes peered over the rim of her huge, round sunglasses. She never left her house without them when she was coming down or hungover, which was most of the time. The sun was always too bright for her bloodshot eyes.

Kylo's shoulders eased back down, and he threw the spray can on top of his bag nearby. He reached up and pulled the mask down to hang around his neck. His hands were covered in red spray paint, and flecks of it stained his familiar smiley face t-shirt. It looked like he'd gone all psycho killer on someone. Phasma smiled. Kylo quirked the corner of his mouth in response and waved a large hand at the wall. "What do you think?"

In tall capital letters, the wall read: IF YOU THINK THIS IS BAD YOU SHOULD SEE WHAT OUR GOVERNMENT IS UP TO.

The words filled up most of the wall, paint still dripping in spots, vermillion trickles overlapping in their descent. Everything about self-named Kylo Ren dripped like that, messy, just on this side threatening, always looking a little too much like blood.

"Love it," Phasma said after taking a long look. She used her middle finger to push her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose, and walked forward, hands pushing into the pockets of her furry pink jacket. Kylo wiped his hands on his jeans with holes in the knees and tightened the flannel tied around his waist. "You eaten today?"

He shook his head no. Phasma sighed, relieved he hadn't been desperate enough to go for the trashcans she'd just passed. At least the kid was smart enough to not give himself a wicked case of food poisoning. "C'mon," she said, nodding her head towards the alley's entrance. "I got my stamps today. My treat."

"Don't waste 'em on me," Kylo said, rubbing the back of his neck. His dark eyes were on the cracked concrete. "The kitchen's serving tonight anyways." The Arkanis Anarchist Kitchen held semi-regular meals for the broke punks and street folk who knew about it. It usually consisted of soup made out of expired canned goods and vegan homemade bread, usually provided by Hux. It wasn't much, but Kylo was far from a picky eater.

"You are allowed to eat more than once a day, you know."

Okay, okay. Donuts?"

"Rad."

Kylo collected his bag, shoving the can inside and slipped the mask off from around his neck, gingerly pushing it in as well. Phasma noticed a new plain grey shirt poking out from the top of the contents of the bag. Phasma smiled to herself. She knew Hux had probably shoved the shirt in there before Kylo could notice the last time they met up. It was a habit of Hux's to do things like that on occassion; Kylo would open his bag to find new shirts or underwear tucked in, folded tightly and neatly, while Phasma had groceries left on her counter (Hux and Kylo both had a key, mostly to help Phasma on nights when she was too strung out to find her own keys or answer the door). It annoyed the hell out of both of them.

Shouldering the heavy pack, they began walking in step down the alleyway. As they emerged onto the street, from around the corner two police officers appeared, their heavy belts clicking with their steps. In unison Phasma and Kylo sneered and turned their backs to them automatically. They quickened their pace, but Kylo froze in place when one of the officers called out.

"Hey there, Ben!"

Phasma stopped a few feet ahead of Kylo and turned back to glance at him warily. Kylo's jaw was clenched, his expression tight and failing to hold back his anger at the sound of his old name. "Kylo," she warned quietly. Her eyebrows were lost in her bangs. Since when was Kylo Ren buddy-buddy enough with a cop to have him know that name?

The officers were upon them now. They were a good head shorter than the two punks before them, who used their height to their advantage at once by standing up straighter and glaring down at them when they turned fully to face off. The man who had said Kylo's old name only came up to Phasma's chest. She smirked as he had to look up at her.

"Pig Dameron," Kylo said, crossing his arms. Phasma's hands curled into fists in her pockets as she resisted the urge to punch him for his stupid mouth.

Pig Dameron just grinned with a smile that could melt Phasma's heart if she were into the fuzz. Or men. He had longer hair than she expected was regulation, the dark curls framing his angular features. He was awfully young to be a cop, maybe a couple years older than Phasma at 27 by her estimation. He kept his expression easy as he hooked his thumbs into his belt. Phasma eyed his hand, noting how close it was to his gun.

"Charming as ever, Ben," he said. "You been doing some more of your little art projects?" He nodded his head towards the fresh stains across Kylo's shirt and jeans. Kylo's arms tightened around his chest, jaw clenched again.

"No, I just stabbed some poor old fucker," he snapped back. It was good Phasma had left her Beretta at home, otherwise she might have pulled it on Kylo for being such a dumbass. Instead, she shot him an icy look from under her sunglasses and cleared her throat loudly. Kylo didn't acknowledge her, eyes locked with Dameron's. The other officer, a pretty woman with long dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail with bright almond shaped eyes, was eyeing them both nervously. Her hand was resting directly on her mace, fingers twitching. Definitely fresh bacon.

"Not funny," Dameron said, grin hardening into a frown. "What's in the bag?" Kylo was blessedly silent for once. Both of them knew it was good the focus was on the contents of his bag over Phasma's spaghetti strapped purse, which currently contained a compact full of coke. The silence stretched on, and the rookie was getting antsy, shifting her weight and tapping against the mace with her small fingers. "Well?"

Before Kylo could open his mouth and say something to get them maced and arrested, Phasma jumped in. "Are we free to go, or are you detaining us, officer?" Her voice was firm and even. She'd gotten used to talking to police without giving them the idea she would be intimidated, even if internally she was planning an escape route that possibly included popping off a kneecap with the help of her trusty Beretta to better her chances. Not having its weight in the band of her underwear made her feel more vulnerable than she would ever admit outloud.

Pig Dameron raised a thick eyebrow before giving a frustrated sigh. He threw a hand up and shrugged his shoulders. "No, you're not being detained," he said.

"Then we don't want to talk to you, thanks," Phasma said. With that, she grabbed Kylo's wrist a little too hard and turned him around. She dragged him down the street, sure to keep her eyes forward and her steps slow and even enough to not look like they were running away. Past the first stoplight, and a good four blocks between them and the two officers, she finally let go of Kylo's wrist. He drew it into his pocket quickly, grumbling to himself about not being a fucking child. Phasma's eyes narrowed and she started walking faster, forcing Kylo to double his pace as they rounded the corner towards the 7-11 where they spent hours loitering and buying Donuts with spare change.

Once in the parking lot Phasma stopped abruptly. Kylo stopped too, almost running into her as she rounded on him. He didn't have time to react as she pulled a balled fist out of her jacket and decked him right in the mouath with enough strength to send Kylo staggering backwards. His jaw made a sickening pop as it dislocated with the impact. He was lucky she hadn't worn her particularly sharp rings that day. But the metal bands she did have on were enough to split his bottom lip, and he tasted blood from it as well as his gums as he bent over, hands on his knees. He shoved his jaw back into its socket with a another nasty pop and a few explixatives. He panted, spitting blood to the ground before glaring up at his friend.

"The fuck is your problem!"

" _My_ problem? What the fuck is wrong with _you_ , man? Since when were you that much of a shit-eating moron to cops?"

Kylo pushed his hair back with one hand as he straightened up, and spat out one more mouthful of blood. He stumbled a little before finding his footing, the hand in his hair going to cup the growing welt on his face. "I'm not a moron," he said, voice growing quieter. "I know that guy, okay. He's a dick."

"No shit. He called you _Ben_."

"We grew up together, okay? Before I got kicked out." Phasma stared, mouth slightly open as if she had been planning to say something. She closed it with a click, but kept scrutinizing Kylo's expression as he rubbed the darkening bruise on his face and kept his eyes glued to the asphalt. His body was tense, shoulders slouched in a defensive stance as if to protect the rest of his body. Usually Kylo got unreasonably angry at the mention of his life before the street. But this. This was bordering on pathetic. Nothing like his usual tantrums at all. He looked like a heartsick puppy. Realization dawned on Phasma's face and her jaw dropped open with a disbelieving laugh. Kylo's eyes shot towards her, wide with surprise and just a flicker of embarrassment.

"Oh my god, you lost your virginity to him!"

"What! How did--why would you think that!"

"Holy shit, you totally did."

"Shut up."

"How old were you? He's like. Older than me!"

"I didn't say--we--I was sixteen, okay? I thought he was hot mostly because he was older than me."

"Was he a cop then?" Kylo glared. Phasma put up her hands in surrender. Her right knuckles were raw and pink from hitting Kylo's strong jaw, the silver rings on her middle and ring fingers smeared with little traces of Kylo's blood. "Hey, look, we all did dumb shit at sixteen. No judgements." Her curiosity, though, was overflowing.

"Training to become one," Kylo mumbled, his beauty-marked neck and cheeks flushing pink.

"Wow. This is some forbidden romance shit right here."

" _I don't care about that pig!_ He's been trying to get me arrested for years."

"Yikes, calm down, Ren. I'm joking. This is just so _Twilight Zone_." She offered him her hand and forearm, bent at the elbow. He grasped it after a second, arms wrapped around each other as Phasma pulled them into a half hug. They released each other and went towards the entrance of the corner store. The door dinged as they entered the too-brightly lit room, and headed for the pink-lit bakery display glass off to the the left. They stared at the donuts and bearclaws in silence, aside from the occasional sound of Kylo running his tongue over his teeth to clear the lingering coppery taste from his mouth.

"Phasma," Kylo said slowly. He was staring at her hands as she used a piece of wax paper to pull out their selections.

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Hux about me and the cop. I don't want him to think I-- I don't want to deal with the shit he'd give me."

Phasma finished putting the half dozen sprinkled donuts into a paper bag and rolled up the top, shoving it into Kylo's hands. "Whatever, Ren." Kylo couldn't tell she was rolling her eyes under those enormous sunglasses at his failed attempt to make the request casual. Sometimes he was so fucking obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phasma's response to being stopped on the street is a perfectly legal way to interact with the police in the US. [Check out this pamphlet to know more about your rights when interacting with law enforcement.](https://www.aclu.org/aclu-issues-multi-lingual-know-your-rights-pamphlet-educate-public)


	3. Explosive Personalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's in the mood to get a rise out of Hux--and is certainly succeeding--when Phasma shows up with some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No full beta or reader for this one, so apologies ahead of time if I missed something. Thank you for your patience with this story! The plot is gonna kick in here, so I should update again soon. As always I love to hear your feedback here or on tumblr @darthtanttrum
> 
> PLEASE see endnote for chapter content warnings!
> 
> *
> 
> *
> 
> *

Kylo realized as he rounded the ninth flight of stairs he was wearing the shirt Hux had slipped in his bag to his great frustration. He pulled the straps on his backpack to adjust its height, grumbling to himself. It wasn't like he was completely ungrateful, he just hated handing Hux more ammo to use against him in the likelihood of getting into an argument.  
  
Living on the streets, there weren't a lot of things to depend on. Fighting with Hux was one of the few things Kylo knew he could. It was something like a comfort.  
  
Kylo took a deep breath at the top of the tenth floor, wanting to breathe easy when he knocked on Hux's door. He told himself it was to prevent more ammunition for Hux, not to appear cool and collected like the other always seemed to be. He started down the hall, only to pause when the door to Hux's studio opened prematurely. From it, a lanky boy emerged, hurriedly throwing his hooded jacket over his shoulders. Kylo recognized the baby-faced teen from their anarchist meetings at the kitchen on Sunday nights. His name was--Tandon? Thompson? Thurston? Something like that. Whatever it was, he loved to kiss Hux's ass. Now, it would seem based on his untied sneakers, in more than one way.  Kylo grinned wolfishly at him as they passed in the hall. The teen's face went beat red and he shouldered past him as quickly as he could without tripping on his own laces.  
  
Kylo waited until he disappeared down the staircase before practically bolting the rest of the way to Hux's room. He knocked hurriedly on the door, and waited with the same wolfish grin on his face.  
  
"Don't tell me you forgot--Ren." Just as he'd hoped, Hux opened the door expecting the young Thurston to be the one rapping to be let back in.  
  
"Who could ever forget me?" He pushed his way in with an exasperated sigh from Hux. He turned away from Kylo, back toward the roll top desk in the left corner of the room. Peering over Hux's shoulder, Kylo caught a glimpse of an array of wires and bits of metal on the desk.  
  
"I certainly _wish_ I could," Hux grumbled over his shoulder before shutting the top of the desk with a thud before Kylo could make out anything more. Kylo threw himself unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.  
  
"That hurts, Hux. Hurts right here." Kylo clutched at his chest and gave Hux a pout.  
  
Hux frowned, nostrils flaring as Kylo kicked off his filthy boots before draping his obscenely long legs over the leather armrest. "What the hell are you doing here? Don't you ever call?"  
  
"Not until you write me more letters, darling," Kylo said, laying back with his arms covering his eyes. Hux told him to fuck off, sending a quick jab into Kylo's side with his foot as he went to the kitchenette to see if he actually had any food to force into that raggedy backpack without notice. Kylo grunted, the noise sounding more like a challenge to try harder. "Besides," Kylo said, "you're not worth the 50 cents when I can be let in unannounced all the same." Hux sneered at him over the refrigerator door. It'd been over a week since they'd seen each other last. Hux, for his part, wasn't totally disappointed for the chance of silence.  
  
He was known to hyper-focus at any given time on one of his projects. The last had been a zine series that ran for several months and got decent circulation in the wake of a series of strikes. He'd help organize rallies, marches, debates--anything that could gather more support for his call to disband the city council.  
  
Well, preferably he'd like to disband the government, but one thing at a time. His current project was a closely guarded endeavor, which of course meant Kylo and Phasma wouldn't stop nagging him since they figured out he was up to something. Though, the forward questions were fewer these days as the air grew colder, and Kylo had to find more shelter and Phasma had to find more clients. They were like so many of the people Hux knew here. Just on this side of fed. Squatting in convenience stores whose windows were gone before the pump price hit over a dollar. So many younger than him facing off with racist cops and homophobic parents, feeling lucky when they left with their faces unbloodied.  
  
Policy was always the same: out of sight, out of mind. The council didn't seem to care how many vulnerable populations there were on the outer rims of their narrow vision of an acceptable city. Hux knew he could help, could make chaos work for him to create something better.  
  
"You're not worth 50 cents, period," Hux said flatly with a slam of the fridge door. There was nothing inside but a half a gallon of orange juice. It was five days until the first of the month, and between project supplies, Phasma forgetting to feed herself, and Kylo desperately needing new clothes, Hux was thoroughly broke til then. The letters always arrived on the first. He’d stopped reading them, just taking the checks and stuffing the pages into the bottom drawer of his desk.

He eyed Kylo, noting he looked like he'd at least eaten recently enough. Kylo caught his eye, and casually pulled from his jean pocket a switchblade. He flicked it open, head hanging off the armrest as he kept his upside down gaze on Hux, tip of the blade needling between his gums. The action elicited no response from Hux except the faintest twitch of his lip.     
  
Kylo’s  expression set around the blade in his mouth. He thought at first Hux would have the advantage due to the shirt currently riding up his stomach. It seemed, however, Kylo could play it to his own. He grinned. "Oh, I know you dropped more than that on these fancy new threads for me. For future reference, grey's not really my color," he said.  Almost bored.  
  
"Sorry, they were out of trashcan black," Hux shot back almost instantaneously. Damn his sentimentality. Was it sentimental or practical to keep the man who could knife anyone who gave Hux trouble clothed? Hux didn't bother to answer that to himself.  
  
"Touchy!" Kylo pushed himself up on his elbows, knife now resting against his hip. Hux noticed the blade against the bare skin of his side, that blasted shirt still riding up just enough to expose a line of Kylo's stomach. Hux should have known to buy another size up. "I thought getting laid was supposed to make a guy happier," Kylo went on, "not more of an asshole."  
  
"What?" Hux's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to the couch. He was very tempted to smack that shit-eating grin off Kylo’s face.  
  
“I saw Thurston leaving,” Kylo said. “Cute kid.”  
  
“It's Thanisson, and, he's not a goddamn child.” Kylo snorted at the little huff Hux gave. Resisting the urge to put his hands on his hips, Hux paced over to his desk, lifting it just enough to fiddle with some odd bits of wire so he didn’t have to keep looking at Kylo. What was he so damned pleased about? Hux was never ashamed of his sexuality or how he went about his pleasures. If someone was interested, odds were Hux would have them. A quick fuck did a lot for brainwork.  
  
“Well, good. Glad to know you haven't started robbing cradles yet,” Kylo said. His words were slightly garbled around the blade once again picking at his teeth. “But damn. He looks fucking _fourteen_ .”  
  
“He's old enough to do as he pleases.”  
  
“You mean _who_. Let me guess. You fucked him cause he agreed with you. That whole 'people should want to obey or there ought not to be anyone to obey at all' thing?”

Last week’s meeting at the kitchen had brought up debates about the benefits of an anarchist approach to social change. It had been heated. When Hux got going he could appear almost terrifying with his passion. But Kylo was decidedly misquoting him to get a rise, and Hux was not in the mood.

“That’s not what I said.” Hux connected a few wires, carefully twisting the copper together between his forefinger and thumb. “Besides, Thanisson happens to have very interesting albeit different political opinions than my own.”  
  
“Good,” Kylo said. He twirled the blade between his fingers, daring it to slice at his cigarette-burned knuckles. “Cause you sounded like a fucking fascist.”

The roll top slammed down. With his head still hanging off the end of the armrest, Kylo hadn’t seen it open, and the sound startled him with a curse. The knife slipped just enough to slice a thin line down his finger before he caught it from splitting open his palm. He didn’t have time to sit up before Hux was towering over him. If he sat up now, their heads would collide, and given the look of absolute disgust on Hux’s face, Kylo decided the laugh wasn’t worth the risk.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Hux said, lip curling. He leaned closer, eyes flickering between Kylo’s huge dark eyes and the bright trickle of blood on his hand. It took a dive, a droplet landing on the grey shirt. Hux’s nostrils flared and his chest tightened. “You think you’re so goddamn superior because you live in a warehouse and pick fights with cops? You think not living by the rules does anything to help break down a system? Change takes fucking work, Ren.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Kylo said, and he knew-- _he knew_ \--it was a bad idea even as the sarcastic words poured out of his mouth, “be the change you want to see in the world.”

Kylo was right.

Maybe it was the blood on that new shirt that was the tipping point, or maybe he just wanted to do it. Either way, Hux’s hand flew to Kylo’s exposed neck and clamped down, choking him. Those impossibly huge eyes got wider, and it only made Hux smirk as for a few blissful seconds the punk was silent, startled, and struggling.

And then Kylo’s instincts kicked in, as did a reminder of the switchblade in his still bleeding hand. Hux was leaning down, only a foot or so away from his face, his sweater collar hanging low to expose more of his neck.  Kylo made a gagged sound, pushing his hand up against Hux’s neckline so the blade sat against his skin. Hux released at once, hand landing on the armrest. The dark haired man gasped, but his hand was steady. A few drops of blood landed on Hux’s white collar.

They both breathed heavily, eyes locked and still dangerously near each other’s faces. This close, Kylo could still smell the sex on him. Like salt and toothpaste. It wasn't sexy, but then, in both of their cases sex seldom was. It was impulse and nerve endings; sweat and fear of broken condoms. But this-- Kylo's knife flirting with the collar of Hux's now tarnished white sweater; Hux's right hand pressed into the leather of the couch just over Kylo's shoulder, ready to jump back to his throat again at any moment--this, this was--

A terrific beating came from the door, followed by the sound of Phasma bellowing, _“Hux, open the fucking door!”_

Hux moved away instantly. Kylo felt like he must have flown. He sat up, touching his neck with his clean hand, flicking the knife closed with the other. Hux glanced over his shoulder at Kylo before opening the door and snapped, “Clean yourself up, you’re bleeding everywhere.” Kylo held up his bloody middle finger and slinked off to the bathroom while Hux let in the coming storm.

“Phasma, what’s--” Hux didn’t even finish his question before Phasma pushed him aside to stomp into the room. She was probably coked out, given her jittery movement and the pinpricks of her blue eyes. She’d forgotten her sunglasses. She could barely stop moving long enough to shove a piece of paper into Hux’s hand.

“Take a look at this shit!” Hux looked down at the paper as Phasma circled the kitchen island, uncrumpling it enough to see the bold, red letters at the top of the page.

“Fuck,” Hux said. Kylo emerged from the bathroom, eyebrows raised in curiosity at the look of blank surprise on Hux’s face as he silently read the notice. Phasma was smithing new curses as she rounded on a tenth lap of her circling. Cut hand in his pocket, Kylo stepped forward and took the note from Hux to read:

 

**NOTICE TO VACATE**

 

_We regret to inform you this building is scheduled for demolition in three weeks as per new management demands. If you do not vacate the premises by November 11th we reserve the right to confiscate and/or destroy all remaining belongings. We will not be held responsible for any property or persons remaining inside the premises promptly on this date. Failure to comply with this notice will result in legal action to the full extent of the law._

_  
_ _\-- Coruscant Properties, LLC_

 

“No fucking way,” Kylo said flatly, throwing the paper onto the counter.

Phasma gave a maniacal, bitter laugh. “They didn’t even give us warning that they were selling the building!”

Hux picked up the notice, glancing through it again. “This can’t be legal.” His eyes flickered over to his desk before looking back when Phasma took a deep breath and finally stopped walking. She put her chipped red nails on the counter.

“Well, the council won’t give a shit, I’ll tell you that,” she said after a few more breaths.  “I asked ‘round the building who bought us up. It’s the fucking Hosnian Center.”

“Fuck,” Hux and Kylo said in unison. They didn’t even glare at each other for it.

The Hosnian Shopping Center was, by far, the greatest influence on the city council at the moment with its promise for “revitalizing” the outskirts of the city by turning it into a shiny new bourgeois playland. The mall used to be as disheveled as everything else on the city rim. But various investors began upscaling apartments, and soon took an interest in the run-down center. Everything around it was slowly disappearing to be replaced with food, music, clothes, and rent none of the locals could afford. Gentrification had been a concern at several of the last meetings, but no one had any idea they were moving this fast.

Phasma's low-rent, high-cockroach apartment was on the backside of the mall, and what many of the new people filtering into the area called an eyesore. Hux felt like he should have seen it coming.

“They’re gonna have our whole block raised to add more fucking bath salt stores or some shit,” Phasma said, throwing her head back to stare up at the ceiling lights. Hux put the eviction notice on the table, his hand briefly resting over Phasma’s and squeezing lightly. She didn’t look down, but the corner of her pink lips raised for a second.

Kylo shifted his bulky weight a distance away, hands deep in his pockets. He was never good at knowing what to say when someone was upset, at least nothing helpful. “Capitalists are unreal, man,” he said, feeling pathetic. Hux shot him a look that said _Really?_

Hux turned back to Phasma, his hands behind his back as his mind finally set into a plan of action. “Did you tell anyone over at the kitchen?” They needed to have a meeting at once.

“No. I mean, yeah, ran into Thanisson on the way over. He’s gonna make some calls. Said I would too,” Phasma said, finally lowering her head. Hux kept his eyes on her to avoid looking at Kylo. She blinked the rainbow spots from her vision, the action seeming to calm her. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of Phasma for organizing so quickly, even while upset and blown out of this world.

“Good. Use my phone. Ren--”

“Yeah, I know,” Kylo cut him off with a wave of his hand as he moved passed the counter, towards the door. Hux spun around to look at the back of his head, a little startled by his sudden haste. His finger was bandaged now as he pulled on his Doc Martens at the door. “I’ll get the Knights to spread the word. When do we meet?”

“I told Thanisson 10:30,” Phasma said.

Without another word, Kylo was out the door, backpack slung across his shoulders and his wild hair flapping in time with it as he stalked down the hall.

Hux sighed like he’d been holding in a breath. Phasma drifted into a chair at the counter. The heels of her hands were digging into her eye sockets as she readied herself to begin summoning the troops. Hux got her a glass of water before idly standing before his desk, fingers running along the ridges of the roll top. Inside lay unread letters, bits of wire, potential.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: age difference in sexual relationship implied, accidental self harm, choking, drug use, violent flirting


End file.
